Experimental Erotica | Massage | Assisted Masturbation | Dreamlike
Offering
An Intense Sensual Encounter on a Tropical Beach
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It is a remote little beach on a remote little island. Not a luxury resort — just undiscovered and out of the way. Inevitably some travel vlogger will discover this slice of paradise and reveal it to the world. Thus it will be overrun by fat grubby tourists, Instagram models looking for the perfect shot, backpackers looking to find themselves, and locals locked in servitude to some foreign investor who reaps the profit.
But not yet. For now, the place is idyllic, a postcard perfect beach with white sand, palm trees, bright sun, and a turquoise sea. The waves lap against the beach, the light breeze whispers, accompanied by the colourful calls of peculiar birds in the verdant jungle beyond.
She has discovered this place. No one knows who she is, only that her very presence commands a respect bordering on reverence. No one who meets her is ever quite the same.
She lays reclined on a sun lounger like a goddess from another age, her body sculpted out of a different clay, reaching a perfection of form and physique that one would not have imagined possible before laying eyes on her. Taut muscles ripple under skin the colour of fertile soil as she repositions herself, and black hair flows from her head in lustrous waves. A midnight purple bikini top hugs the firm globes of her breasts tightly, rich nipples poking against its embrace. Her Venus cleft is visible as an indentation in the fabric of the matching side-tie bikini bottom.
No one approaches her. Her lounger sits a distance away from the others and is shielded by a cluster of palm trees that sway gently in the breeze. Not that there are many people around. Those few who have found their way here prefer solitude and independence over being waited upon.
So she lays there, soaking up the sun as if its warmth is all the sustenance she requires. Waiting patiently for someone worthy to approach.
He walks along the beach. His body may not have been sculpted as perfectly as hers, but he’s no fat grubby tourist. Skin bronzed not by birth but by the sun. Broad-shoulder, tall, athletic. Girthy package tucked tight in a pair of blue swim trunks. Anywhere else he would be handsome, beautiful even — but as soon as he draws near her, he fades into the background.
Before he consciously notices her, something changes in his stride. It had been meandering and aimless; now it seems infused with an unknown purpose. He turns his head. Sees her lying there. Stops. Normally so confident, now he’s uncertain — shy, even. The need to approach her, the chance of being allowed to bask in her radiance is so strong in him that it hurts. But he feels unworthy.
So he stands there, waiting. It is a ritual as old as people; the supplicant waiting for a priestess, a queen, a divinity. His respect for her feels as natural as the appreciation of a beautiful sunrise and the trees bending to the wind. As natural as his breath, now shuddering in hopeful anticipation.
The breeze stirs the fronds of the palm trees playfully. A large flock of red-winged birds with large beaks lift from the jungle and take flight. She appears not to have noticed him, but he persists. Knows instinctively that it would be worth it, even as his legs grow tired and the sun begins to sting his eyes.
When she finally acknowledges him, she appraises him with narrow eyes. She grants him permission with a graceful movement of her hand. He stands before her, not quite knowing how he got there, blinded by her subtle smile — a gentle curve at the corners of her mouth, a tiny raising of her defined cheeks, a slight softening of her brown eyes.
He opens his mouth to utter some trite flirtation. Changes his mind. It would shatter the sanctity of the moment. Revoke his sacred permission to approach. Closes it again.
She tilts her head minutely to the side with a mild look of amusement on her striking face. To his relief, her expression morphs seamlessly into one of approval. He has passed another test in this enigmatic trial. She nods towards a clay pot on the ground near her. He picks it up gingerly, uncorks it. An oily, herbal scent rises from it, soft but with powerful, musky undertones. He imagines it originates from some rare herb found only in remote locations, where it grows for her sake alone.
She turns around on the lounger, lying on her belly and resting her head on her arms. The gentle curve of her spine ends in petite tail bump, and her buttocks are pleasantly round and soft-looking, yet tight with the underlying muscles. She lies there, and waits.
A warmth rises within him, a tingle of anticipation for being allowed to touch her smooth, earthen skin. Gratitude for this singular opportunity of worship. He brings up the pot and drips a little of the oil onto her back. She responds by undoing her bikini at the back and letting the string drop to the sides, revealing more of the sides of her breasts, squeezing just a little to the sides under her weight.
He kneels. At the first touch of her skin, he shivers as a jolt of energy surges through his fingers and arms and into his body. He begins his task. His hands are strong but he discovers a surprising gentleness in them as he spreads the oil, rubs it in, finding each muscle in turn and massaging it with tender force. Another dash of oil at the nape of her neck, then his hands find her shoulders, pushing his thumbs firmly along the sides of her spine. Her body tenses momentarily when he reaches her neck, then relaxes again, and she lets out a sigh with the tiniest hint of a sensual moan in it. It makes him shudder and there is a tingle in his sex that feels just a little forbidden, yet all the more exciting for it.
He continues his ministrations along her arm, and she releases it into his care. As he rubs her muscles, she relaxes into his grip, bit by tiny bit. His strong hands run along the muscles of her arm, lubricated by the scented oil. An intimate act reminiscent of the sexual.
When he reaches her lower back, she reaches down and undoes one of the side-ties, then pulls at the bikini bottom softly. The midnight purple fabric slides away from her voluptuous mounds at a seductive, excruciating pace, slowly revealing the grove between them, the smooth, puckered sphincter, and finally the dark outline of her cleft, still partly shaded by the garment. He whimpers at the sight and she gives a soft chuckle. He feels his groin stirring again, his member stiffening and pressing up against the fabric of the swim trunks. At first, he is embarrassed — but it quickly passes. It is a natural reaction to the sensuous revelation of her sex. He pours a little oil into the palm of his hand and begins reverently working it into her toned rear.
As his fingers find the insides of her thigh, she pulls the fabric away further and parts her legs by the fraction of an inch, her outer lips now on display, glistening with a hint of moisture where they meet. He massages oil into the intimate space where her legs meet her torso, the warmth of her cleft a breath away from his fingers, and she moans softly. This time he can hear the timbre of her voice, deep and sultry.
Reluctantly he moves his hands further down her legs, rubbing his palms against the back of her thighs, pleased to notice her shiver in pleasure as he kneads the muscles deeply. He lifts her lower leg up to work the calves with his thumbs, and her breath is slow and and just a little unsteady as he rubs the arches of her feet, finding another spot that makes her shiver and gasp lightly as attends to it.
He steps back. Carefully she turns back over, one arm shielding her breasts, making sure the bikini top stays put. The bottom slides down a little, just enough to reveal a patch of dark hair on the mound above her sex, the fabric still covering her cleft, albeit barely. When she lays eyes on his member, now struggling against his trunks so that it’s outlined against the fabric, she smiles again, warmer this time. There’s a wet spot on his swim trunks by the tip of his sex.
He lets a hand drop to his trunks and gingerly he runs his fingers along the shaft of his tumescent member, shivering at the touch. She smiles but shakes her head minutely, then looks down at the rest of her body, unattended and waiting. He nods, and even though the movement of his trunks over his cock teases him as he moves forwards, he sets himself back to his task. A little emboldened now, he starts by dripping some oil into the notch above her décolleté, then gently spreading it to her neck and the front of her shoulders.
She draws a deep breath, first with her belly, then with her chest so that her breasts rise, touching the underside of his arms as he’s massaging the top of her chest muscles. He can feel her stiff nipple poking at his skin through the bikini. As she lets the breath out, she pulls at the bikini. It slides off, finally revealing the fullness of her firm breasts, round globes that roll just a little to the side, dark brown nipples haloed by rich, pebbled skin.
With trepidation and reverence, he moves his fingers to the slope of her breasts, stopping just at the nape for a moment to ensure he isn’t trespassing. But she just closes her eyes and relaxes, giving herself over to his care. With a shiver, his oiled fingers slip onto the soft flesh. As his fingers first brushes the rugged skin of her nipple, she arches her back a little, pushing her breast into his hand, but the oil makes the smooth skin slip his grasp. He brings his hands back, one on each soft globe, thumbs squeezing into the flesh as he massages them. Another sigh escapes her as her nipple rubs against his palm, and he kneads each breast carefully. Hoping to please her further, he rolls the nipples between his thumb and forefinger, satisfied when it makes her moan quietly.
When he finally trails his fingers towards her tummy, she relaxes again, looking down at his hands expectantly from the slight incline of the lounger. There is a little hunger in that look, divine patience momentarily escaping her. He takes his time rubbing the oil onto her tummy, tracing her abdominal muscles, then massaging them patiently before moving lower. His ministrations trace the pectorals, slowly moving towards the intimacy of her mound and the soft hair that crowns it. Oiled fingers glide underneath the bikini bottom and along the side of her thigh, pressing up against the side of her lips, not quite touching them. She shudders, and as he leans closer, his erection presses against her hip. He looks up at her, but her eyes are closed, once again losing herself in the pleasure of the moment, giving no objections.
While running the fingers of his other hand through the softness of her pubic hair, he slowly moves two fingers so they rest over the warmth of her sex. Once again he waits, giving her the opportunity to object. Instead she pushes her groin a little towards him so that one fingers pushes ever so gently into her warm slit, and she lets out a deep moan which he can feel through her wet opening. His other hand comes to rest at the button at the top of her opening, lightly teasing the hood that covers it with two fingers.
With a contented sigh he pushes his fingers a little deeper into her, hooking them slightly to rub against one of her walls, wet and welcoming. Once again she presses up against him impatiently, and he probes deeper while he circles the other fingers over her covered clitoris. Even as he devotes himself to her pleasure, his shaft presses against her leg through his swim trunks in slow strokes, each touch sending a flash of unbridled pleasure through his body.
He attends to her warm cleft with increasing intensity, her moans getting louder, turning into groans, her body twisting slightly under his care, her sex getting wetter as he probes deeper into her. Finally, he slides back the hood of her clitoris and gingerly strokes the exposed head. His cock pushing up against her leg feels like it’s about to burst, and he pushes down on her clit with more force while plunging all four fingers into her, stroking her walls and pressing his thumb against her outer lip, massaging her forcefully. Her breath quickens and she squirms under his vigorous worship.
Her breath suddenly enters a staccato and her lower abdomen lifts up, quivering, her legs twitching repeatedly as he brings her to a glorious release. As her body convulses in pleasure, the bikini bottom finally slips off and hangs from one thigh, fully exposing her dark, flowery lips just as a burst of her juices squirts out of her and onto his hand, followed by another gush that runs down her glistening sex and trails onto her firm butt. Another wave of spasms makes her clench her sex around his hand rhythmically, and he slows the pace to a halt.
He withdraws slowly from her quivering cave, his hand dripping of her release. His task is done, and he steps back respectfully as she slowly relaxes back onto the lounger with a deep sigh of satisfaction. For a moment her eyes are closed and she’s lost in the afterglow. When she opens them she’s looking straight at him, her mouth quirking up in that mysterious smile again. Her eyes move to his crotch, where his cock is still straining madly to break out of the elastic weave of his swim trunks. He looks at her, daring to anticipate, and she nods upwards once in approval.
He pulls his trunks down just enough to let out his throbbing member, the skin lighter where the trunks shield it from the sun. His cock stands forcefully, painfully erect, a thick and veiny monolith, a wet and hard monument to her divine beauty and pure sexual magnetism.
She motions him closer with a casual wave of her hand, and he takes two tentative steps so that he stands over her torso, gazing down in awe at her soft, unearthly physique, now completely revealed to him in, oiled skin glistening in the sun. Her scent is of the strange herbal oil mixed with the earthy undertones of her skin and the tangy wetness of her sex. More precum flows from the tip of his member, so much that some of the clear liquid drips from the tip, landing just below her breath.
She reaches out with her hand, and even seeing the movement makes him flinch in anticipation as his member rises up to meet her. She grabs the jar of oil and brings it up, carefully uncorking it and pouring out a few drops into her hand, then setting it aside again. She rubs the oil out over her hand, then reaches towards his tumescent member.
The muscles of his lower abdomen tighten with pleasure even as she moves in his direction, a little more pre-cum flowing out. She cups her palm and pushes it against the head, which it slips around slickly against her skin, finding no escape. The sensation is both irresistible and torturous, and he closes his eyes and groans. When he opens his eyes she’s got a secretive smile on her full, dark lips. She switches to a grip around the head of his member, then runs her closed hand down the length of the shaft. He shivers, barely able to breath as she teases the immense tension that he has been building up during his worship. The oil in her hand and the precum that he has been exuding makes his member slippery, amplifying the feel of her strong fingers around him to nigh unbearable degrees.
He opens his eyes and forces himself to look down at her, meeting her eyes who are now focused on him as she patiently strokes his shaft, appearing to savour his intense pleasure and the pained gasps he makes as he both craves release and hopes the moment can last forever. The pressure in him builds up to an impossible level, and rises still, each firm and careful stroke rocking his member with pleasure and sending electric waves of sensual energy through his body. He whines and moans, thinking that each wave must surely be the last, yet hoping it isn’t.
A few more strokes is all that is required. He gasps deeply one final time and she angles his member towards her chest just as a long groan escapes him, turning into a cry of please. The first jet of seed ejects violently from him in a prodigious stream which arcs towards her and lands on her breasts. Even as he convulses over and over, she keeps stroking his wet cock, angling it so that his sticky, warm flow lands on her breasts and belly, and the final burst tangling into her soft pubic hair. She raises herself a bit from her lounging position as she tightens her grip on him and milks out the last load, letting it fall onto her cheek with a satisfied smile.
Then she lets go, and leans back in her lounger again, drawing a deep breath of fulfilment. He trembles a bit as he folds his cock back into his trunks, still aching pleasantly from the memory of her strong grip.
It is over. She is laid there; uncaring, beautiful, strong. Her bikini top lies bunched up near her armpit, her bottom hangs from one of her thighs. The result of his worship adorns her body. The lustrous oil he has massaged into her pores making her skin glisten in the sun. The white of his seed is contrasted against the dark of her skin — puddles on her belly, strings of it in her pubic hair, some sluggishly rolling down the round slope of her breasts, and a few droplets on her cheek.
It is not a lewd sight but a tableau of beauty, a tribute to pleasure, a dismissal of shame. The results of a pure act of worship and respect. They will not meet again after today, he knows that. Yet he loves her, and always will. With great reluctance, he turns away.
The world a little sharper to him as he walks away, as if a grey filter has been lifted from the world, revealing beauty around him that he has previously failed to see. That connection he has shared with her; it is everywhere. All he needs to do is open himself to it.
When he looks back one last time, she still lays there naked in the distance, her eyes once more closed, her body relaxed, and his offering still spread over her. And he knows now that she is not worshipping the sun.
It is worshipping her.
